Strange Grey Days

On its self-titled debut, this Vancouver "garage soul" band does a faithful, playful recreation of 1960s girl-group sounds, filtered through proudly grimy production.

As prevalent as the 1960s girl-group sound has been in indie rock over the past five years, no one would ever mistake these modern variations for the real deal. Rather, the most visible of the contemporary torch-bearers have subjected that classic pop sensibility to corrupting influences: Dum Dum Girls toughen it up with a 1970s CBGB spirit, Vivian Girls smother it in the the haze of C86-era indie, while Cults play up the connection between booming "Be My Baby" kick drums and hip-hop breaks. Vancouver's Chains of Love, however, present no such immediately differentiating characteristic or subversive streak. Their press materials drop names like the Cramps and Jesus and Mary Chain, but punk rock and transgressive noise terrorism aren't really part of their program. What they offer instead is a faithful, playful recreation of familiar period details: reverb-heavy guitar jangle, snake-like tambourine rattles, ? and the Mysterians-style organ doodles, Motown basslines, and, yes, more blatant appropriations of the greatest percussive intro in pop history.

Chains of Love do filter these sounds through proudly grimy production-- courtesy of guitarist Felix Fung, the Jim Diamond/Liam Watson of the Vancouver garage-rock scene-- though that simply serves to enhance, rather than undercut, the band's retro qualities. Instead of approximating the cathedral-sized grandeur of a Phil Spector single, Strange Grey Days imagines what it sounds like to hear one blasting out of a cheap transistor radio on a hot August night in 1965. But while the scruffy surface may lend Strange Grey Days the patina of a dust-covered, decades-old, crate-digger find, it doesn't provide the best showcase for vivacious vocalist Nathalia Pizarro, the undeniable focal point of their live shows and, as such, the person in the best position to distinguish Chains of Love from the 60s-throwback pack.

As Strange Grey Days illustrates, Pizarro can cover the full emotional terrain of girl-group pop, as she (with the able assistance of guitarist/partner-in-harmony Rebecca Marie Law Gray) convincingly embodies the many shades of desire, from territorial possessiveness (the seething standout "All the Time") to post-break-up longing ("I'd Rather Be Crying") to vengeful accusation ("Lies Lies Lies"). But the four-track fidelity and crowded mix don't give her the space to fully command your attention as she does in concert; hearing Pizarro trying to assert herself amid the relentless drum fills and omnipresent organ blare of "He's Leaving With Me", it feels as if Chains of Love are batting their clean-up hitter in the number six slot.

Fortunately, the last song here offers up some breathing room. In the same fashion that the Dum Dum Girls' closed out their rough'n'tumble 2010 full-length debut, I Will Be, with a downcast cover of Sonny & Cher's "Baby Don't Go", the otherwise feisty Strange Grey Days signs off with its atypically haunting eponymous track, a chilly, piano-led ballad on which Pizarro and Gray's vacant voices ominously summon the grim titular weather forecast. It is, of course, too soon to say whether the song constitutes a one-off digression or a gateway to more exploratory mode of songwriting, but it's a promising sign that Chains of Love aren't afraid to break free of their well-worn aesthetic.